An I Love You, so simple
by DarkeStar
Summary: Rated for emotional content, is a deathfic, in many ways, but while sad it hopefully will not be empty. Heero is haunted, mind, body, and soul, but he learns sometimes it's never too late... Minor revisions made 071802


Title: An I Love You, so simple...

Author: Darkstar

Rating: PG-13

Status: Complete (1/1)

Warning: Deathfic-but with a positive end, angst

Disclaimer: I do not own them (the characters, environment, concept) but I do own the plot and the ideas herein and any original characters I may add.

Summary: A death leaves Heero without all but one thing, his continuous guilt for denying his lover the only thing he ever seemed to need, and now it's too late. Unsaid words lead to a haunting of mind, body, and soul. He learns though, with Death, it is never too late to say I love you.  
Notes: Scythe Ender wrote the poem for me that is throughout the fic, and from some chaotic ramblings one late night.  My thanks to him for this.

Miner revisions made July 18, 2002

An I Love You, so simple…

"You see, this isn't really that complicated," he explained in that deep honey voice.  He turned and brought his hands above his head, lifted the hair slowly and purposefully began to overlap strands, tucking and pulling, tightening, keeping an interesting and complex hold on the gathered hair.

            Heero tilted his head to one side and watched a moment as Duo braided halfway down his back, and then turned, liquid and warm violet centered solely on him.  "You see it's not that hard.  Just a matter of patterns, you understand patterns, I'm sure you can handle this.  You're perfect after all aren't you?" he teased.

            Heero shook his head slightly; eyes following Duo's slender and agile hands break the braid down into his thick hair again.  "Not perfect.  Well trained, yes.  Accomplished, yes.  But not perfect."

            He brought his hands up and ran his fingers through the spun silk that Duo called his hair, bringing it to his face and breathing in the sweet scent.

            "Are you going to braid it for me or just mess it up?" Duo asked lightly.

            Heero smiled and let the hair drop, pulling Duo back against his chest, the smile already slipping, the warmth in his eyes never fading.  "The war's end is just around the corner," Heero whispered into the others ear, causing a soft giggle from the American.  "I never thought I'd live this long to see it, but now I don't think that I can live with it continuing much longer.

            "I was raised to be what I am, and yet you struck all those years of training down within just several months."

            "And you're all the better for it," Duo told him; tilting his head back and pressing a light kiss against the others cheek.  He pushed himself away from the other gently; untangling his hair from the others hands, and began to brush it out in long, efficient brushstrokes.

Heero leaned back on his elbows and watched as chestnut strands of hair floated from the hair and onto the white sheets with an amused glint in his eye.  "You always leave a trail of hair behind you.  In the shower, in the sink, in bed, on the carpets, in your bags."

"Not that I can help that," Duo stated, drawing the hair back and braiding it tightly, securing the end with a small black band.  "We better head on out or we'll be late.  This meeting is important, I don't want us to be late."

The bright sunlight in the room made Duo's hair glow, the red warm and inviting, the brown soothing and familiar, mixed together and bringing to Heero's mind images of chocolate fudge and strawberries.  That brought another smile to his face and he leaned back fully on the pillows, seemingly unmindful of the ticking clock, the appointment, Duo's seeming rush to be there on time, as if Duo could ever be on time for anything.  It was as if Heero had all the time in the world.

Duo looked over, frustrated from the lack of response, and stamped his foot onto the carpet in a most endearing way.  "Come on, we might actually get there on time for once."

"I know we will.  I set your watch ahead twenty minutes."

Duo stopped and turned to look at Heero, head titled to one side, then a smile broke out over his face.  "You're incorrigible."

"At least I'm continual."

Duo laughed, a husky and heartwarming sound, and came over to Heero shaking his head slightly.  "I love you, you know that right?"

"Yes," Heero answered, rising from the bed slowly and moving to take Duo into his arms.  "But that doesn't stop me from wanting to hear it, whenever you say it."

"Well, I do, I love you," Duo whispered, seeming to wait for something in return.

"Your hair smells wonderful," Heero said, pressing his face against the soft braid spilling over onto Duo's shoulder.

Heero.

Duo brought a hand up to curl his fingers through the hair against the nape of Heero's neck, leaning his head against the others.  "Heero, Heero, Heero," he sighed softly.

Heero.

"Yes?"

"Give me a kiss and we'll go, or else we will be late."

Heero leaned in toward Duo, drawing the other closer…

Heero!

Heero looked up, eyes focusing, and saw Quatre standing in the doorway, the light spilling out from the hall illuminating him and making him appear angelic.  The tender yet worried look on his face did nothing to make less of that fact.  "Heero?"

The other ex-pilot looked around the room, seemingly in a daze.  The only light came from the hall, the soft glow falling through the open door almost harshly.  The room was not filled with bright sunshine, but instead darkness and gloom, the window spotted continuously with the lightly falling rain outside.

"Are you going to the movie tonight with us?" Quatre asked, taking in the state of the room himself, noting the dried vase of flowers on the dusty dresser, the four unpacked boxes covered in the same sheet that he had thrown over them to keep the contents from getting dusty three months ago.

"I don't really feel like it," Heero stated, looking back down to the carpet between his feet and resting his elbows against his knees again.

Quatre looked away a moment, then to Heero, studying his friend with a sad frown.  This was not the person who he had known before, the individual he had met.  Gone was the inner strength and determination, the clean and orderly appearance, the aura of a predator.  This was replaced by someone who had seen too much, experienced what he was not ready for, and finally been broken by it.  He could not have showered for several days before today, and the clothes he wore fit loosely on his thinning frame.

"Are you sure?  We'll be going to dinner after, it's been forever since you left to go out and eat…" Quatre trailed off as Heero shook his head, and he looked down at the carpet.  It's been forever since you really ate…

"Okay, well, there's always someone around the corner here to help you if you need it," Quatre said, backing out of the room slightly.  "Maybe next time?"

"Yeah, maybe next time."

"I'll have someone bring something up for you to eat…  Not hungry?"

Heero looked up at Quatre, dark bags under his eyes.  "Not really, maybe later."

Quatre took in a deep breath and put a smile on his face.  "Well, don't stay up too late."

Heero looked back down to the carpet.

Quatre didn't bother with another word, shutting the door softly behind him.

After what could have been seconds, minutes, hours, or days, Heero could not differentiate, he looked to the closed door and let out a silent sigh, swinging his feet up onto the bed and laying back against the soft pillows.

"Come on Heero.  You accuse me of being lazy, look at you."

Heero rolled over slowly and to the open door, where Duo stood, hair damp from the shower and in the first stages of being braided.  He folded his hands behind his head.

"And what should I be doing at this moment in time?  Everyone else is out for the night, and it's only you and me.  You just got out of the shower, so now I can do something, where as before I really couldn't."

"Laptop down again, huh?" Duo said in mock sympathy.

After a moment Heero nodded.  Duo gave a smile.  "I'll give you some entertainment tonight, lover boy," he whispered huskily, letting his braid drop against his bare chest as he closed the door behind him, cutting off the majority of light in the room.  The only thing now illuminating the room was the milky moonlight seeping through the windows, and as Duo moved toward the bed, he stepped around the puddles of light on the floor with a promising smile.

"It's just us after all, for several hours, and I have been away for a month on a mission.  You look a little worse for wear, have you missed me?"

Heero opened his mouth to say something, brow knitting together, and Duo climbed up onto the bed, moving to straddle Heero's lap with a smile.

"I've been rather busy myself, Duo.  We are fighting a war after all."

"And here I was hoping you missed me, I guess not."  Duo gave a small pout as he slid his fingers under the tank top, leaning in to press a soft kiss against the exposed stomach.

"Well, I missed you, a lot."

"You shouldn't make attachments."

"You shouldn't make attachments," Duo mocked lightly, playing with Heero's hair.  "And why the hell not?  I'd go nuts without making some kind of attachment.  It's what keeps you sane man; it's what makes life worth living.  'Sides, kinda hard to detach from love, ya know."

Heero tilted his head to one side.

"Also, it is kind of hard to detach from you.  You sort of suck people in and despite everything they're stuck to you."  Duo pressed up against Heero, pressing light kisses along the jaw.

"Stuck to me? Sort of like you?"

"Precisely like me," Duo murmured, arms wrapping around Heero's neck, feeling the warmth and invisible strength in his body.  He didn't protest when Heero locked his arms around Duo's back tightly, almost too tightly, and then he seemed to notice and loosened his hold.  It made Duo smile.

"We're so right for reach other, you know.  Death and the Soldier, it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?  Don't give me that 'Duo's-being-overly-sentimental' look."

"You are though, you do that all the time.  You're planning a future here, none of us can be guaranteed a future, none of us an be guaranteed the next five minutes."

"I'm a dreamer, Heero.  That won't stop a dreamer.  I know you care, you can't pretend that, stop lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Oh, you're not lying huh? Huh, huh, huh?" Duo brought his hands down and took advantage of several recently discovered places of interest along Heero's stomach and sides, bringing up involuntary chuckles from the otherwise stoic boy.

After a moment Duo stopped, propping himself up over Heero with a smile.  "I don't know what it is about you.  Those brooding looks, the dark Prussian pools of emotion, your untamable spirit… I know, I know," Duo stopped with a laugh.  "If I don't stop I'll wax poetic.  I can't help it, I love you."

"Shut up and kiss me, Duo."

"Happily," Duo murmured, leaning in and kissing the pliant lips beneath his.

(Lost in the flow of time and space 

Are words I should have said but 

Now they have no place)

 "Why don't you ever say you love me?"

Heero looked up from the laptop, across the room to where Duo was sitting, his back to him but face clearly visible in the mirror over the dresser.  He had his brush out and was smoothing the hair out in long even strokes, brushing out the tangles, giving it a healthy shine, relaxing himself and luxuriating in something he could not often do.

Duo looked up with a tender smile, eyes twinkling in the mirror, and Heero knew undoubtedly that Duo was the most beautiful thing in the dingy motel room they were forced to hole away in for a few days.  The graceful hands moved back to the stroking of the hair, eyes still on Heero, a tease, and a promise.

"Hn."

"Hn.  And what's the definition of 'Hn' Mr. Heero Yuy?"

"Hn."

"Hm, interesting.  We have ourselves a paradox.  Hn is the meaning of Hn, and the meaning of Hn is Hn, but that brings us back to what is the meaning of Hn.  Maybe I should have asked for a translation."

Despite himself Heero gave a small smile and Duo settled down in the chair in front of the dresser, bringing the hair over his shoulder and brushing it through slowly.

"But you don't.  Not once have I heard you tell me that you love me."

Duo gave Heero an expectant look, either waiting for that, or for an explanation, any explanation.  It would be so easy to tell him what he wanted to hear, but he didn't, and didn't know why.

"Hn."

A spark of disappointment and sadness in the amethyst eyes, and then he gave a smile.  "Not just your way, huh.  I know you love me, you don't have to say it."

Silence.

(The wounds in time will heal

 But the scars will still remain

 Reminding me every day of the things

 I wanted to say)

"Such a peaceful day," Quatre sighed softly, turning to look at his companion.  Trowa gave a silent nod and brought his eyes back to the figure in the distance.

"Once a week," he murmured, both to himself and to Quatre.  "Once a week, always on Thursday, always before 7 o'clock.  It's the only thing we can be sure he won't miss."

Quatre nodded and turned back to his coffee.  Across the street, through the wrought iron gates, past manicured and perfectly maintained lawns, Heero walked with a slow and steady pace, hands deep in the pockets of his thin, worn jacket.  And predictably, as he passed the older stones, moving into the new ones, and saw the stone angel faintly in the distance, his feet stopped moving and he could move no farther ahead, but could not turn back.

He stared long after the sun descended beyond the deep purple and red and orange horizon, past even when he could see it anymore, and Quatre came and collected him, bundling him up in a blanket in the back of the jeep, and sinking himself into the passenger seat.

(In reality it is I within that coffin 

Sure it seemed that I was always cool 

And calm, the strong silent type as most would say)

"Sheesh Heero, why do you look so down?" Duo asked, bringing his hands around the other and rubbing the blanket briskly along his arms.  "It's cold out there tonight, that's for sure.  Come on; let's get you in the kitchen, some coffee or tea maybe.  You've got to be hungry.  We know I can't cook worth a damn, but I can make you a sandwich or something."

Duo let Heero through the elegant hall of Quatre's current residence, smiling brightly as he passed Quatre, who appeared concerned, but who did not pursue knowing that Duo would take care of everything.

In the kitchen Duo settled him into a chair and fretted tenderly over him, until Quatre came in with a smile and took over, allowing Duo the chance to pour all of his energies into making Heero feel better.  The timer for the soup beeped, but he barely heard the sound, only realized the soup had been set on the table because Duo tapped his hands against the white top and he gestured to the soup in the glass bowl.

He looked down, only to see a dark blue bowl on a tan counter.

"Here you are," Quatre said, setting the silver spoon down next to the bowl, straightening it with small unsure movements.

Heero stared down into the broth, not seeing the sickly yellow soup or his distorted reflection cast in it, seeing only the bright shining light from above reflected.  Lifting his eyes he turned his head back to the left, to where Duo was sitting, and Duo gave him a sad smile, shaking his head as he began to fade into his surroundings.

Brow knit together Heero let out a shaky breath, feeling a hot prickle against his eyes, and he reached out to the specter, resting his trembling fingers over the other's, only to meet the cold table under his touch.

"He's not here," Heero whispered hoarsely, looking back to Quatre.

Quatre shook his head; eyes filmed with unshed tears, whispered softly as he brought his hands down to touch Heero's shoulders gently.  "No, he's not."

Heero pulled back slowly, pushing the bowl away, and stood, moving without sound or explanation back to his room.  Dropping his jacket on the dresser as he passed it fell over and obscured the cold untouched laptop as he moved over to the bed.  Not bothering to take his shoes off or pull the sheets back, he fell back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, one arm thrown over a pillow, to wait out another sleepless night.

(Now I find this exterior of stone cracking and the 

Ice water replaced with what you would call blood 

All the things that I would normally do all seem meaningless 

Meaningless without you)

Warm husky laughter as Duo crawled up onto the bed, moving to pull the shoes from Heero's feet, ignoring Heero's small grunt of protest.  "You can't be this tired man," he said, moving to press a quick demanding kiss against the others mouth.  "You promised," he murmured, pushing the shirt up and letting his fingers feather up and down the strong chest and flat stomach.

"Damn, it's like you survive on sex and junk food," Heero protested lightly, half heartedly swatting Duo's roaming hands away.

"You want me to stop?"

"Did I say that?"

"Not in so many words."

"Then I obviously didn't say that."

Another husky laugh, further driven into the ice around Heero's heart by the soft murmured words that punctuated each feather light touch on his skin.

Husky words so close, yet so far, insistent yet non-intruding touches.

Heero let his eyes drift closed to ride the ocean of sound, opening them again briefly and not seeing shining violet eyes but the dark ceiling above him.  Next to the bed a lamp had been turned on and he had been righted on the bed, the shoes taken off, covers thrown over him.

Had he slept?  He did not know.

He could still feel the ghost of his lovers touch, the hot breath in his ear as he whispered nothing and everything.  He reached out and the bed beside him was cold to his touch, the pillow not shaped by another's head, no scent that lingered beyond the freshness of laundry.

(Your voice an endless plague upon my ears

 The touch of your hands haunts my dreams and my waking hours

 Yet is always the object of my fantasies

 All around me don't see it but I am much like a corpse now

 As dead as the form I watched lain to rest after that long cold war)

He didn't mean to stumble across the papers, faded and yellowing slowly with age, but there they were, under the clothes that he had been unpacking.  Quatre leaned back against the dresser and let his eyes trail over the familiar article.

Why had Heero kept it?

Turning he placed the paper on the freshly cleaned dresser top and gripped the dressers edge until his hands turned white as he let his mind travel back to that event.  Slick road, drunk driver, he never saw it coming.  No pain, the medic had said.  No awareness of what happened, what was coming.  A tragic accident.

People he worked with in helping to rebuild the community had been shocked and overtaken by grief.  At the funeral only the best had been said, his wonderful spirit, shining personality, generous heart.  And after such a sad past, his childhood, the war, the fighting.  Why him?

And Heero's cold angry eyes.

Quatre rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tears that had built, and picked the article up, setting it on the folded shirt and moving to the bathroom to get a tissue.  When he came out he was met with Heero's back, next to the dresser, and then Heero turned.  Gone were the cold angry eyes, replaced with tired eyes, old eyes, and lonely eyes.  The same eyes that he had seen after the accident, when Heero had taken Duo into his arms, cold and lifeless, the last traces of whom he was seeping out onto Heero's clothes, clothes still stained to this day with blood that would not come out.

'I should have been with you,' he whispered, over and over again, rocking him.

Nothing had consoled him after, no words, no touches, nothing.

(They praise your name yet they barely know you

 I knew you and still I feel as though I know nothing about you)

"I'm glad you decided to join us, Heero," Trowa said softly across the table.

Heero's eyes flicked up, slowly chewing his food but not tasting, swallowing, sipping his drink but not gaining anything from it.

He looked back down and out of the corner of his eye saw a chestnut braid sneak by.  He looked up, hand on instinct reaching out to grab it and pull the other back, but his hand went right through the air, catching nothing, and Duo turned, shaking his head at him.

"Come on Heero, you know better than that," he whispered.

(I hear your voice calling to me

 I want to follow

 Can I follow the sound to you?

 Are you waiting for me?)

Quatre studiously ignored that and turned to Trowa, fighting to smile at him.  "I've tickets to the theatre for tomorrow night, wouldn't it be nice to go out and do something?"

Trowa nodded and looked to Heero, but Heero was looking to something the others could not see.

"God, you look horrible," Duo sighed, sitting at the foot of Heero's bed.

Heero looked up slowly, blinking his eyes in the dim light of the room.  Duo turned to look at him, bringing himself around so that he was sitting at Heero's feet, cross-legged.

"Duo?"

"The one and only."

"But…"

"But what?  Are you losing your mind?  Maybe."  Duo grinned and looked around the room, braid sliding along his back as he moved.

"Are you back?"

Duo gave him a sad look, crawling up toward Heero.  "Back?  Heero, I can't come back, you know that.  I'm dead."

"But you're here…"

"Yeah, I'm here.  I've missed you," Duo gave a slight shrug.  "Have you missed me?"

"Duo, I…"

"Still can't say it, huh?"

Heero looked down, tears coming to his eyes, only to feel ghostly, yet strangely solid, hands cupping his face.  They were cold, but when Heero brought his hands up and covered them he did not feel his own face, but his lovers hands.

It brought the tears again fresh, tears that Duo leaned in and kissed away, lips as cold as death but as solid as life.

"I love you Heero," Duo whispered, finding the others lips, kissing them warmly.  Heero returned the kisses, solid yet not living, no taste but complete sensation.  He pulled back slowly.

"Duo…"

"It's a dream Heero.  I'm gone; you know that, I can't come back.  But I miss you; I'm waiting for you."

"I'm dreaming?"

"Yes."

"Duo, I…"

"Just kiss me," Duo whispered, leaning in again.

(Will you continue to wait?

 But then you were always impatient)

"I don't want to wake him," came Quatre's soft whisper.

"Then leave word with someone to let him know when he awakes that we'll be back at 5."

"Should we leave though, its Thursday, and it's also the one year anniversary."

"You can't hold his hand forever, Quatre.  He's been doing better these last couple of weeks; I think it's okay."

"All right, okay.  We'll give word not to disturb him for any reason though, if he sleeps through the day, let him.  It's what he needs, not to go to a cemetery and put himself back into his misery."

(Very well then I shall not make you wait longer

 For fear that I will lose you and never get to say even in death

 To you what I could not say in life)

Heero glanced over at the clock on the bedside table as he straightened the pillows on the bed.  It was some after 5, and predictably the door opened slowly, Quatre glancing in to see how he was.  Heero turned with a half smile.

"Hey Quatre."

"He-Heero.  Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon to you to."

Quatre took in the room, the open and empty drawers, the laptop turned on and ready to be used, the boxes uncovered and secured.  "Are you going somewhere?"

"It's time for me to move on," Heero stated, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Oh.  Well, that's good.  Will you need help with anything?"

"No, everything's in order.  I don't predict any problems."

"Are you going tonight?"

Heero shook his head.  "No, I have other things to do.  I'll be gone tomorrow morning."

"Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?"

"What time will it be?" Heero asked, glancing at the clock again.

"Six."

"Yeah, I'll join you.  And after that I'm going to turn in."

Quatre beamed.  "Great.  I'll go check on things."

Heero glanced at the computer and the two pages long note he'd written on it, and then down at the corner of the screen where the time was.  7:04.  Nodding slightly Heero switched off the lamp by the bedside and moved to the bathroom.  Looking in the mirror he saw the faint image of Duo's face behind him, and but when he turned even the ghost had vanished.

(They called you death did they not?)

Rubbing his damp palms on his jeans Heero picked up the glass of water and the bottle of prescription painkillers he had had for a while now.  There were 17 left, he figured that would be more than enough, and took them one by one methodically.  Tossing the empty bottle in the trash he emptied the glass of water, set it upside down on the sink to let the rest drip out, and switched off the light.

Moving back into the room he turned off the main light in the room, then the lamp as he crawled into bed.  Rolling over onto his side he closed his eyes and waited.

(Come for me then I await again your Ever-caring embrace)

Duo settled at the edge of the bed, reaching out to stroke Heero's hair even though Heero would not feel this, and reached over to switch the alarm on the clock off.  "You won't be needing that, will you babe?"

"I love you Duo," Heero murmured, staring at the empty pillow beside him.

D.S.


End file.
